


A Better Night

by Shatterpath



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, Cussing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had never had good luck with women. Maybe a random encounter and a bit of matchmaking can help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Night

**Author's Note:**

> Now, I've had this prompt for aaaaaaaages (I collect them, y'know) and it seemed the right time to give it some spit and polish. 
> 
> http://chewvic.tumblr.com/post/126440575102/cyanmar-danger-days-of-our-lives  
> imagine that you've been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you're ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he's just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation but as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you've never seen sits down explaining loudly "sorry i'm so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now." and he quietly adds, "i'm Michael. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn't bother to show up is a dick." and so you do go with it because he's being sweet and trying to save you (and plus he's the cutest thing you've ever seen) and as you're leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time.  
> Imagine your otp

It was the last fucking time he let Bucky set him up with a girl. Ever. Again.

Oh, it had been fun for awhile, but enough.

"You still good, hon?"

Cringing. Steve could barely look at his waitress. Oh, she'd been endless patient, hadn't even hovered, but there was a faint impatient edge in her cheerful voice. It brought attention back to his predicament, the pity of his fellow diners nearly a palpable thing. The waitress was going to get a hell of a tip for her patience. His forced smile felt more than a little queasy when he sheepishly turned it up at her and yup, more carefully veiled pity in her alert gaze. Wonderful. There were days he hated being the nice guy.

"No, I'm good."

Something curious, then calculating, then jovial raced through her eyes and Steve was uncomfortably reminded of Bucky's machinations. Before he could do more than start forming a protest-- and really, what could he even say-- she grinned with real glee and strutted away. Somehow, Steve felt as though the lionesses were closing in. Still, he lingered for another few minutes. Nice guy and fiercely stubborn. No wonder Bucky's terrible women kept taking advantage of him.

Finally the pitying looks were too much and Steve sighed, scrounging out the evening's date money from his wallet with the intent of dropping the whole wad on the table for his patient waitress. Then a smoky-sweet British accent made him pause.

"Oh, darling, so sorry I've run so late. Traffic is just a mess."

For an insane moment, Steve wanted desperately to look around for the cameras, for Bucky's laughing face yelling, "Gotcha!"

With imperious ease, she settled to the seat opposite him, smiling warmly. She was a vision, curvaceous and well-dressed in corporate finery, dark hair twisted into something complicated and stylish. Even in ratty jeans and soaked in sweat, she would have easily been the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The warm grin on her lush mouth curled into something delighted… maybe even a touch shy. Flawlessly red-tipped nails rested against his hand, still clutching the wrinkled money. When she spoke again, her voice was low and intimate.

"I'm Peggy. Just go with it, yes? Whoever didn't bother to show up is a dick."

The cussing finally shook him out of his shock and Steve was stunned to feel a bubble of delighted humor escape him in a soft laugh. "Yeah, I think you're right. I'm Steve, and thanks, y'know, for the blind date."

That smile should come with a warning and Steve felt like he'd been clipped by a taxi. An experience he'd actually had. 

"Have you eaten?"

And so his crappy night with a girl he was quite sure he didn't even like, became a lingering meal with the most fascinating and sexy woman he'd ever had the pleasure of being in immediate proximity to. Despite Peggy's being some corporate bigwig-- it snuck out a couple times, to his amusement-- she was warm and funny and whip-smart. Better, she seemed to bring out the best in him, somehow not turning him into a clumsy idiot. And, while he was overly aware of his plebian wardrobe, he was glad to be in his least crappy shirt and pants, shoes mirror-polished. Peggy's blazer alone probably cost more than his last three commissions. He could barely look at that double string of iridescent pearls resting around her throat. Yet, she never came across as though she were slumming it in impulsively bailed him out.

Peggy seemed faintly surprised at herself when she answered honestly his question of, "so what brings you to Brooklyn?"

"I work for Stark Industries. Howard is an old and dear friend from his days in London and I was ready for a new adventure. I have to say that I've enjoyed being a New Yorker so far."

Steve didn't choke on his much-delayed dinner at the casual reference to the most powerful businessman in New York, but it was a near thing. "Howard Stark, huh? My best friend is a bartender at the docks and has the worst taste in women on the damn planet. Hence, my crappy night before you saved me."

The throaty laugh was a shock to his system, her deeply brown eyes dancing like cheerful water. "Then your best friend would get on famously with Howard. What do you do, Steve?"

So he ignored the twinges of self-consciousness in the presence of this elegant creature and talked about his art, the pleasure of capturing a moment in a variety of mediums. It was oddly easy to skirt the negativities, the scrounging for every penny, his clothes worn until they fell apart, the chill of winter in the crappy apartment he shared with Bucky that would keep him from being creative for months on end.

And then suddenly, regretfully, they had finished eating and lingering over their drinks. That was of course when his awkwardness with women had to make a reappearance.

"So, umm, thanks for helping me out. Y'know, thanks again. This whole night was starting to suck and honestly, I don't even really like who I was supposed to be out with anyway. You were far better date for damn sure."

The edge of amusement dancing at the corner of Peggy's mouth both made him want to kiss her silly and sigh at himself in resignation to being a dork. Something in his expression must have given his thoughts away for her grin deepened into real warmth.

"I was in for another boring night watching old movies on Netflix and listening to my roommate go on about them while I half-heartedly worked on crap I seem forever destined to bring home. So you are definitively a better evening."

While slightly backhanded, Steve decided to just take the compliment and raised his glass. "To a better night then."

"To a better night."

With a chime of goblets, they toasted and drank before Peggy became a bit more businesslike.

"I'll tell you what, Steve. I'll cover dinner and you can give Angie a hell of a tip with that date money. Is that all right?"

"Angie, yeah, that was the waitress' name. I haven't seen her since you surprised me."

"Oh, she's long since gone home now that she's entertained herself by setting me on this blind date." 

Steve would bet his face had gone skeptical and Peggy was completely amused with the whole conversation. 

"Angie is my roommate and dearest friend in addition to being a hopeless romantic."

Steve couldn't help himself, laughing with delight and soaking up Peggy's smile. Polishing off the last of his wine, Steve stood up and offered a hand to his surprise date.

"Well, then we shouldn't disappoint her. Might I walk you home, my dear?"

Accepting the helping hand, Peggy grabbed her satchel before tucking her hand into the crook of his arm.

"That would be lovely."

And so something began.


End file.
